Congratulations, you've somehow tested into the world's rarest personality type. You may become the great unsolved mystery of the finance world -- yes, the ATM-er doesn't necessarily "give away money," but they're perpetually paying. Paying time, paying energy, paying patience, paying away a perfectly peaceful evening. Like a battered but indestructible ATM machine, people insert their anxiety and problems, and out comes a reassuring "Don't worry, I got this." Your life is one grand, unsung, solo act of picking up the tab. You somehow absorb an avalanche of demands with the reliability of bedrock, only sighing at the bill -- perhaps a spiritual one -- in the dead of night: Oh, this damn, homeless sense of responsibility I can't seem to shake.
